An Inability to Cure the Common Cold
by Cumberbatch Critter
Summary: There was Merlin, curled up in bed with the blankets a tussled tangle around him. Arthur crossed his arms, looking down at the pale skin and the sweat on Merlin's brow and the flickering of his eyes under his lids as he slept. Sickfic. [Set Series One/Series Two friendship mindset.]


**An Inability to Cure the Common Cold**

He wasn't even sure why he was here.

He had been complaining yesterday because Merlin had never shown up in his chambers in the morning, had never shown up at all throughout the day without a single _word_ of where he might be or what he was doing. Normally, he couldn't care less what his servant did when he wasn't assisting him, but things like mud-smeared armour from a hunt or lack of breakfast brought to him tended to rile him up a bit. Merlin was an idiot, but he wasn't _that_ much of an idiot. If Arthur _had_ to guess, he would even say that Merlin actually _liked_ working for him... well, something kept him around, anyway. Or maybe he was just too stupid to look for other work. Not that he'd find any better.

Arthur shook his head slightly, chasing away the idle thoughts. He raised his hand to the wooden door and rapped his knuckles against it, before pushing it open slightly.

Guinevere had informed him late yesterday evening that Merlin was sick. _Sick_. The idiot got sick on _his_ watch, of course he did. And now, afternoon today, Arthur was peering into Gaius's chambers, the scent of medicine and chemicals hitting his nose.

"Gaius?" he called, pushing the door open the rest of the way and stepping inside. The room was abandoned. Arthur frowned and strode across the room, taking the stairs up to Merlin's room. "Gaius?" The door was ajar; Arthur pushed it open.

There was no Gaius, but there was Merlin, curled up in bed with the blankets a tussled tangle around him. Arthur crossed his arms, looking down at the pale skin and the sweat on his brow and the flickering of his eyes under his lids as he slept.

There were footsteps on the stairs and Arthur turned around just as Gaius appeared in the doorway.

"Sire," Gaius said, barely hidden surprise on his features. "I apologise for stepping out, I had to fetch more herbs. How can I help you?"

Arthur shrugged, looking back at Merlin. "Guinevere informed me that he had taken ill."

"Ah. Yes. I have meant to mention it to your Father, but I hadn't found the time." Gaius stepped by him, stooping over Merlin. "I hope his absence isn't weighing too heavily upon your routine."

"I can manage on my own now and then." Arthur tapped his fingers against his arms. Was there a reason this was as awkward as it was? He did feel out of place here. "What is the nature of his illness?" he asked, deflecting the cloud settling upon the room.

"I don't believe it to be anything serious," Gaius said, dipping a cloth into a bowl and folding it up. "Just the common ailments for this time of year. I fear he may have picked it up from the lower town. He and I have been treating a lot of sickness there recently," he continued, placing the cloth on Merlin's forehead.

Arthur sighed, rubbing his forehead with the heel of his hand. "Great. Just what we need. An outbreak of sickness."

"It happens this time of year, every year, sire," Gaius said. "I will inform King Uther if it seems to be spreading further or faster."

"Right..."

Merlin shifted amongst the blankets. Arthur opened his eyes and dropped his hand, raising his head. Merlin's arm fell off the mattress; he mumbled something and his eyes pried open slightly.

"... Arthur...?" he rasped, staring up at him with sleep-hazed, fever-glazed, uncomprehending eyes. Then, suddenly, he sat up with a gasp, gripping at the blankets. "'m late for work! I'm sorry, I didn't-"

Arthur clapped his hand against Merlin's forehead, pushing him back down. "Just... rest," he muttered, staring off towards the door.

Merlin thumped back against the mattress. "Wha... What's happening?"

"You have a fever, Merlin," Gaius said. "Since yesterday. You've slept most of the time. Do you remember?"

"... Ugh. Yes. I remember."

"I'm surprised that you have an excuse for your lack of attention two days ago," Arthur said dismissively, removing his hand. It was covered in sweat from Merlin's forehead. He frowned, rubbing his palm on his trousers. "Although, it doesn't make up for your mistakes all of the _other _times..." he muttered, picking up the cloth and pressing it back to Merlin's forehead.

Merlin sighed, flinging his arm over his eyes. "I feel horrible."

"You look horrible," Arthur pointed out.

Merlin glanced from under his arm. "Thanks," he said dryly.

"Anytime!"

Merlin laughed slightly, putting his arm back over his eyes.

"Here, Merlin. Drink this," Gaius said, leaning over the bed.

Arthur stepped back into the shadows, folding his arms across his chest again, to watch Merlin gulp down the medication Gaius handed him. He made a face afterwards and flopped back into the blankets with a groan.

"Every time," Gaius muttered, shaking his head.

"It tastes foul," Merlin muttered, rolling onto his side. "What do you expect...?"

"A little consideration would be nice," Gaius muttered, leaving the room.

Merlin sighed and pressed his face into the pillow, curling up tighter. His fingers fumbled for the blankets, although they were twisted beneath his weight.

Arthur sighed heavily and stepped forward. "Oh, _Merlin_." He pulled the blankets free from Merlin's weight, smoothing them out over top of him. "Honestly, can't you do _anything_ for yourself?"

Merlin opened his eyes slowly. "... Thought you left," he muttered.

"Which proves how much you were paying attention." Arthur straightened up, looking from Merlin around the room. "... Is there anything you need?"

"... What?" Merlin's tone was so flabbergasted that it snapped Arthur's attention right back.

Arthur narrowed his eyes and looked back at him. "I am capable of doing things, Merlin. More capable than you are, it seems."

Merlin smiled faintly. "Sorry... By a sickbed isn't where I... expect to see you..." he muttered, eyes fluttering closed again.

"Much less by _yours_, I know." Arthur brushed off his shirt and cast another glance around before sitting down on the stool next to Merlin's bed. "It just so happens that I have no where else to be right now and this..." He grinned. "This is going to be good leverage when I need something."

Merlin laughed without opening his eyes; it turned to a cough and he buried himself further into his blankets.

Arthur sighed, resting his chin on his hand. "Well, this is going to be fun. You never did say if you wanted something."

Merlin's eyes cracked open. "... I could do with a bath..."

Arthur raised his head. "Merlin," he intoned. "There's _some _things I'm _not_ going to do."

Merlin laughed again, letting his eyes close as he coughed into the blankets.

Arthur sighed, reaching forward to pick up the abandoned cloth. "Just go back to sleep... or... whatever. Maybe not talk," he added, dipping the cloth back in the cool water and wringing it out.

Merlin just hummed in response, his eyes not opening again.

Arthur shook his head slightly and dabbed at Merlin's forehead with the compress, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

* * *

**Having officially finished Series Two, I wanted to write a sickfic. Well. More than _The Poisoned Chalice_ or _The Fires of Idirsholas_ or- yeah, you get the picture. I wanted an 'uncaring' Arthur that we know actually _does_ care to take care of Merlin, so I vignette'd around with it. **

**As before, please do not mention spoilers for anything past Series Two! I'm still watching it! :)**

**I do not own _Merlin_. Thanks for reading!**


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